


Up All Night

by Schwoozie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Finger Sucking, Hot Weather, Insomnia, Multi, Season/Series 03, Sexual Frustration, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwoozie/pseuds/Schwoozie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hotter than it's ever been since they found the prison, and Beth's having trouble sleeping—but it isn't just the heat. Rick and Daryl endeavor to help her feel more comfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ronsparkyspeirs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronsparkyspeirs/gifts).



> Rating will go WAY up next chapter.
> 
> This is Yolanda's fault.

It starts in the showers. ****

Outside the showers, really, on the hottest day since they've started keeping track: over a hundred degrees, humid like the canal of a frog's throat. It's so hot that even the walls feel like they're sweating; but the concrete is a few degrees cooler than the rest of the hallway, and Beth feels no qualms about unsticking her ponytail from her skin and pressing the back of her neck against it.

There's a slight breeze coming from under the shower room door, too, and she sighs as it hits her face now and again. It took forever to get Judith down for the night—it was only after Carl rigged up some battery-powered fans around her crib that she seemed willing to rest at all.

Beth herself is exhausted. There wasn't an ounce of rain, but Beth's tank is soaked as if she got caught in a downpour. She doesn't think she's sweated as much in her life as she sweated today and all she wants is to get in the shower and attempt to sleep.

 _Like I'll actually get any rest,_ Beth thinks, closing her eyes and listening to the steady patter of water from beyond the door. _Air's probably even worse in that tiny cell. I'll be soaked again in no time, and Judy will probably wake up and I'll have to walk her anyway... ain't even worth the water, probably; maybe I should just shower when it cools down..._

Beth sighs again, opening her eyes and looking at the closed door. Whoever's inside is taking a heck of a long time. She wouldn't be surprised if Glenn and Maggie are having sex in there, thinking everyone else is done for the night. Not that the showers are the sexiest of places—all hard concrete and colorless walls, the water cold enough to wither anyone's libido. And Beth knows; she's tried getting herself off in there, the nights when she doesn't want to bother with being quiet. But just as in her cell, it's no use, and she goes back to bed even more frustrated than she was when she left it.

It doesn't stop the thoughts from wandering into her exhausted brain. Of those cold and sterile showers spinning before her eyes as she's spun into the wall; the flickering fluorescents dancing as a dark figure leans towards her, backs her into the concrete with a kiss.

Beth bites her lip as those familiar flames of arousal begin to lick up her insides. If she tries now, since she's gotten herself going, maybe she could get somewhere...

She turns to race back to her cell and collides with a boulder.

The sensation of one hand closing on her bicep and the other on her hip is so close to her fantasy that her pussy _pounds_ , head spinning in confusion...

As she looks up into Daryl Dixon's irritated face.

“Watch it,” he grumbles, pulling his hands from her as soon as she's steady, fast as if she's burned him. “Where the fuck you rushing to?”

“Oh... I just...”

“Heat got you delirious, girl?”

 _It isn't the heat_ , Beth thinks, but when she sways on her feet she's willing to accept the possibility that part of it is.

Daryl's hand closes around her again, just one this time, on her shoulder; he leads her backwards until she can brace herself against the wall.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” she says, not helping her case with how thin her voice is. Daryl's hand vanishes and before she can look up he's pressing a canteen into her hold. “Daryl, no, I'm fine; I'm just tired, you need that water–“

“I ain't the one about to fall all over myself,” he snaps.

“Watch your tone,” Beth says.

She doesn't know where that comes from; a visitation from her mother's ghost perhaps, when her mind is weak. Whatever it is, she instantly regrets it; knows Daryl's about to go off on her like a ton of tumbling bricks.

But there's nothing. Silence. Beth raises her eyes and looks at his and he appears... chastened?

_Good lord._

He doesn't say anything. Nothing at all. Just pushes the canteen forward until it's solidly in her grip.

“Drink up,” he says.

She does.

She doesn't look away from him as she does it.

His eyes are intense in the almost-dark of the hallway—nearly glowing, like twin beacons, or the lasers in those movies Jimmy liked so much. Her eyes stay steady on him but his wander; jumping from her eyes to her feet to the floor behind her; her throat, her mouth around the bottle, her eyes again as her stomach begins to hurt and she brings the canteen down with a gasp.

He's silent as she catches her breath, heartbeat pounding fast in her skull.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Once more, he doesn't say a thing; just takes the canteen from her, and walks away.

* * *

The thermometer reading the next day isn't much lower, but even without equipment they can tell the humidity's down; and whereas yesterday most of the group did what work they could in the somewhat-cooler bowels of the prison, today at least half the population is out and about, doing their jobs or enjoying the sun.

Beth's lain a blanket out on the grass for her and Judith at the top of the hill so she can keep an eye on the kids playing below. She has to holler a few times when they get too close to the fence, but otherwise her job is slow, and she allows herself a few moments to relax.

Lord knows she needs it. She didn't sleep a wink last night; between the air sticking to her skin like molasses and Judith's wailing cries, she didn't have much of a chance.

_Never mind the way her scene with Daryl played over and over in her mind. No matter how she closed her privacy blanket even in the stifling heat so she could slip her fingers inside her panties, try to recapture the sparks she felt outside the showers. In the end, as always, it was for naught; but even failure didn't stop her from remembering the intensity of Daryl's eyes on her as she drank._

Sighing, she tips her head back, bringing her face from beneath the broad brim of her hat to expose it to the intense sun. Between her and Judith, they're wearing nearly a full bottle of sunscreen. Beth is cognizant of the time, knows they'll have to go inside when it wears off, not having enough left for a second application.

Still, the sun feels nice on her face and her bare limbs; Judith's tumbly baby weight between her knees soft and reassuring. They are as safe as they can be, secure behind their fences. The breeze is cool and the day is fine and Beth isn't anywhere close to complaining.

Beth hears the steps of someone approaching, and she opens her eyes to see Rick climbing the hill towards them, stripping his gloves as he walks. Her daddy had warned him against farming in the heat, but Rick was insistent; as far as Beth knows, he's been working since dawn.

She scoots over without a word, returning his smile as he drops heavily beside her. He stinks to high heaven, but so do the rest of them. Besides, Beth is glad for the company.

“Mind if I borrow some water?” Rick asks, gesturing at the half-full liter at her side.

“Long as you fill it back up when it's finished,” Beth says. She passes him the bottle before settling back on her hands. From this position she can just see Rick's chin from beneath the brim of her hat; she watches dreamily as he swallows down the water, a warmth apart from the weather building inside of her.

He drinks for several long seconds before capping the bottle and setting it down; then he leans back with a sigh, mimicking Beth's posture as they look out across the field.

“It's pretty amazing, isn't it?” he murmurs.

Beth can tell he doesn't expect her to reply, so she doesn't; just leans back again, head hanging from her relaxed neck.

“You been sleeping alright?”

Beth brings her head up, blinking away the spots in her vision. “Yeah. Fine. Why?”

“Daryl said you were up late.”

“Y'all in the habit of talking about me behind my back or something?”

She says it in a teasing tone, or at least she attempts to; it comes out closer to something else, something strange enough to draw Rick's gaze to hers.

“Sometimes.”

He says it so simply, so matter of factly, that all Beth can do for a few seconds is blink.

“Oh. Well. What about?”

“Judith, mostly,” he says, reaching between Beth's legs to stroke his daughter's downy head. “You're taking real good care of her, Beth. We don't say that enough.”

“You don't have to,” Beth says, blushing. “It's my job.”

“It _is_ possible to be bad at your job,” Rick says, mouth tilted in a teasing smirk. He pulls away from Judith and leans back again, this time with his fingers brushing Beth's hip. Beth considers scooting away but doesn't; leans into the contact, even. “Just wanted you to know we appreciate it.”

“We?” Beth raises her eyebrows. “You mean everyone, or you and Daryl specifically?”

Rick shrugs. “Was talking about it with Daryl.”

“Talking about me.”

“Yeah.”

Beth is quiet for a few moments, leaning back further so she's on her elbows. Rick glances at her in a slide that travels the length of her body in a moment.

She clenches her jaw against her building flush. She doesn't want him to think she thinks anything of it. She doubts he does. It's just the way he looks at people.

He's looking at her now, blue eyes intent on her face, and in the heat and the sweat Beth feels bold.

“What did he say about last night, then?”

She swears she feels the air thicken between them.

“Said you were up late,” he repeats. “Almost fainted.”

Beth feels a little of the atmosphere falter, and she knocks her shoulder against Rick's.

“I did _not_ almost faint.”

Rick shrugs, grinning ridiculously. “Take it up with Daryl, then.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Well, make sure I'm there for it.”

“You think we'll need a referee?”

“Definitely,” he says.

Rick's bones are looser than she's seen them in a long time, and it makes something in Beth lighten up too; that she can do that for him, be that for him, leaves a giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“It's a date, then,” she says, bumping his shoulder again.

This time when she moves back into her original position, Rick moves with her, and for a few moments they stay like that; pressed together, sweat trading between their damp arms.

Beth's just starting to wonder when—if—Rick plans to pull away when a jaw-cracking yawn rattles through her skull.

By the time it's passed fully through Beth's body Rick is sitting up again, now with a look of concern.

“You really aren't sleeping well, are you?”

“I'm fine,” Beth insists, straightening up and pulling Judith back from where she'd begun to crawl away. “Just having trouble falling asleep.”

“The heat, or...”

“Can't get off anymore, either.”

The sentence hangs between them for several heavy seconds, ticking through the air like some dastardly timer. It takes Beth that long to understand what exactly she just said.

And who she said it to.

She looks pointedly away from Rick, out towards the fences where Daryl is busy killing walkers. Even from here she can see the flex of his arms, the movements of his powerful shoulders beneath his shirt. It's too hot for his vest, and the cotton sticks to him like a second skin, moulding around his musculature.

 _Not the best time to be noticing this,_ Beth thinks.

Especially not after what Rick says next.

“Ever had trouble before?”

Beth pulls her eyes away from Daryl and back to the baby in her lap, focusing on her to try and temper the burning of her cheeks.

“We don't have to talk about this,” she mumbles.

“Want me to get Maggie, or...?”

“No, it's just...” Beth peers at him, still not quite meeting his gaze. “What, you _want_ to talk about it?”

Rick shrugs, playing at nonchalance. Beth sees how tight his shoulders are, though.

“I did have a wife.”

Beth isn't quite sure what to make of that. She doesn't think Rick does either, but he doesn't say anything else; lets this, too, hang in the air, this and all it means.

“I just... ” she says, her blush soaring to high heaven as she tries to forget who exactly she's talking to. “I don't have anything to... help.”

“Porn, or...”

“Yeah,” Beth says. “Yeah.”

“Well.” Rick clears his throat. “I'm sure we can pick up some romance novels—“

“That's not enough.”

Beth says it quick, quick enough that it comes out sounding like one word, half hoping Rick doesn't understand her. But he does. From the way his gaze burns into her, she knows he does.

The day is cooler, but she's sweating buckets.

Judith begins to whimper and Beth tears her eyes away from Rick to attend to the baby, picking her up and bouncing her, trying to use the rhythm to calm her own anxiety. Judith must sense her disquiet, for her arms only make the baby fuss more loudly.

Beth's just about to give up and put her down when Rick begins to tug her out of her hands.

“I'll take her for a bit,” he says.

“No, it's fine, she's probably just hungry–“

“Beth.” Something in his tone makes Beth freeze, go limp; he pulls Judith away easily. And then he is looking at her and she can't look away.

“Go take care of yourself,” he says.

She knows from the way he's looking at her that he doesn't mean sleep.

Beth watches numbly as he rises, Judith squirming against his damp chest as he turns and walks away.

“It won't work,” Beth blurts out. He pauses, but doesn't look back. “I told you. I can't do it.”

He looks like some sort of myth, standing there: haloed by the sun, a baby in his arms, the light tracing every hard line and sharp curve of his body. Beth is dimly aware of another pair of eyes on them, down by the fence—but she'll worry about that later. Rick is all that exists, now; Rick and his answer.

“Gotta get you something else, then.”

Rick's descent down the hill is slow; steps careful, pace measured, cognizant always of the baby in his arms. Beth watches him go all the way down before gathering her things and heading inside.

She doesn't see him turn and look back. She doesn't see him beckon Daryl from the fences. She doesn't see the way their heads bend close, how Daryl's eyes widen, the slow smile that spreads across Rick's lips.

She doesn't see it at all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night comes, and Beth receives a helping hand (or four).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing but smut.

Another sticky day, another sticky night; another night with her hand in her panties, eyes squeezed shut as she takes herself away. Away beyond the fences, away beyond the death, away to a world of air conditioning and fresh food, where mothers don't die and children don't either.

It's been a bad day for all of them: incensed by a pile of rotten meat that one of the Woodbury men forgot to bury, walkers tore down an entire section of fence, swarming the yard. If they weren't so sluggish in the heat, the prison would have been overrun; as it is, they lost five people fighting them off, one a boy of barely 11.

Beth tries to chase those thoughts away; drags in a sharp gasp as a spark of arousal ignites and fades, flaming out before she even has the chance to chase it. She doesn't know why she's even disappointed anymore—she hasn't been able to come since before her mother died. And it isn't what she told Rick nearly a week ago on the hill; not only that. Yes, it's hard to come without her favorite videos, but she's done it before.

It's the smells. It's the sounds of a world too quiet. It's the constant feeling of something off-kilter inside of her, ready to run, ready to fight, ready to do everything but take care of herself.

This is the one selfish act she is allowed, and it's something she can't even accomplish.

Beth pulls her hand from her panties and slaps it down on her stomach, tears in her eyes as she looks at the bottom of the top bunk, awash with shadow. With the privacy curtain drawn and a light sheet draped across her body, the cell is stifling; but she feels too listless to remedy it. Now that she's stopped touching herself she feels her body begin to pound for release; but even the thought of continuing drives her arousal back down.

She closes her eyes, breathes in deep. Smells the sterility of the concrete, the remnants of venison in the air, that ever present, always near smell of decay. Smells her own body odor after a day too exhausting to make the trudge to the showers. Smells the flowers that the kids picked for her, sitting on her desk in a mason jar and on their way to withering.

She sniffs in, rolling onto her side so the tears drip into the well of her nose. She doesn't like crying, but she likes the feeling of tears on her face—the slow slide of saline across smooth skin, the tingle as it dries, the snail-trail of cool it leaves in its wake. The liquid tickles against her nostril but she doesn't wipe it away; twitches her nose instead, curls in on her sweaty self, shivers a little as she sheet is drawn down and off of her.

She's distracted enough that she doesn't take notice at first, beyond a wave of relief at the feeling of cool air on her skin—but as the moments wear on she begins to feel some disquiet. She's just on the way to opening her eyes when a hand closes on her bare ankle.

Beth's eyes fly open and she shoots into a sitting position; tries, and is stopped by a palm over her mouth and an arm across her chest, pinning her slight body with ease.

She's building up to scream despite the gag when a voice murmurs in her ear:

“Easy, Beth, easy.”

And Beth relaxes.

Blinking the panic from her eyes, Beth looks into Rick's face, very close as he kneels beside the bed.

“What the _fuck_ , Rick Grimes?” she hisses. “You trying to give me a heart attack or something?”

“Sorry, honey,” he says. The hand that had been on her mouth has migrated to her scalp, is stroking her hairline. She's soothed in spite of herself, and her eyes flutter under the light pressure.

“Is it Judith?” Beth asks. “Is she–“

“Judith's fine, she’s with Carol,” Rick says. “We're here for you.”

“I don't...” Beth's eyes slide past Rick into the darkness of the cell; even in the dim she finds his broad body easily. “Daryl?” Daryl shuffles on his feet. Even from what little she can see—barely more than his outline—Beth can tell he's uncomfortable. “Rick, what the hell's going on?”

Rick doesn't say anything; just keeps stroking her hair, almost like her mama used to when she couldn't sleep. She doesn't feel like she did when her mama touched her, though; she feels hot and cold all at once, the sweat freezing on her body, under his touch as his other hand moves to close around hers.

“We've been talking,” he says.

“About me again?”

“Mmhm.”

“That's pretty rude, you know.”

Rick chuckles, drifting his knuckles down her temple until she shivers. “Sorry.”

“You don't sound sorry at all.”

“He ain't.”

It's the first thing Daryl's said this whole time, and it does something to Beth she doesn't anticipate. She looks down the bed at him, past her own bare legs and the bars of the bunk to where Daryl stands in the corner, as far from her as he could possibly be while still remaining in the cell, but relaxing—his posture has gentled somewhat, his energy calmed. It's almost like Rick's soft hands on her have transmuted to his body too; she blinks slowly, in lethargy, as her own body relaxes as well.

“What were you talking about then?” Beth whispers.

“You,” Rick says.

“Okay.”

“And your problem.”

Beth's eyes return to Rick's, her heart pounding. “My problem?”

Rick hums, his hand drifting from her knuckles to the skin of her hip, bared between her camisole and her sleep shorts. She's aware, suddenly, of the painful twisting in her nipples, almost as if she is cold—but she isn't cold. She's far, far from it, but they stick out as if she is, pushing against the fabric. She wishes she could smush herself down before Rick and Daryl notice, certain that she's visible even in the dark—but she thinks about what it would mean for them to see. What they would do, were they to look at her hard nipples and her bare skin and come closer in the night.

The idea doesn't repulse her like it should.

“We'll leave if you want us to,” Rick says, fingers light on her hip, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Won't mention this again. But we've been talking. We want to help you.”

“Help me,” she says. She glances at Daryl, and sees he's taken a few steps closer. He freezes when he sees her looking at him, almost guiltily; but he doesn't back away. His eyes drift, after a few moments, to Rick's hand on her; the path it follows.

Beth knows where this is going. She feels powerless to stop it.

She doesn't think she's ever been gladder of anything in her life.

“Beth,” Rick says. Her eyes drift back to his; take a few moments to focus on where they gleam in the dark. “We want to help you come.”

Something in Beth knew it was coming, but that doesn't stop Rick's words from lancing through her stomach, twisting her organs until they're spiraled like spaghetti on a fork. She stares at him, heart pounding, abdomen pulsing for something further.

“Both of you?”

“Mmhm,” Rick says. A smile crooks his mouth, revealing half a line of white teeth. “Said you needed more, right?”

Beth's legs are trembling, she realizes; vibrating as if Rick's fingers, now rubbing soft circles under her belly button, are sending out pulses like earthquakes beneath the ocean floor. She feels an earthquake starting inside of her, now, something unstoppable, implacable, relentless as the sea.

She thinks she'll die if they stop.

“How will that work?” she asks.

“However you want it to.”

“That's pretty selfless of you, isn't it?”

Daryl snorts, and she looks at him again. He's gotten yet closer as Rick distracted her; hovers near enough that she could stretch out and touch him with her toes if she tried. He still seems nervous, but less so; he's regained some of the swagger in his posture, feeding off of Rick's easy confidence. They seem like one mind, one being, in the dark, looming over her with bodies and hands.

“We'll get ours, girl.”

Rick chuckles when Beth's breath leaves her in a rush, the images assaulting her mind, of cocks—of _cocks_ , of _Rick and Daryl's_ cocks—everywhere, all over her, standing proudly from their bodies as they press down on her. And it's dark, so dark, almost too dark to see—but when she looks down she is almost certain she can find the outline of one, hard and ready in Daryl's jeans.

She knows Rick and Daryl have cocks. Of course she does; it isn't any secret, especially after the winter they spent living in each other's pockets—she's sure she's seen both of theirs once or twice as they took morning pisses in the snow.

But this is different than knowing the basics of their anatomy in some vague way. This is _knowing_ —thinking back to the pornos she's watched, the rods long and thick, and they are _here_. Here and wanting for her.

Her hands clench on the bed. Daryl draws in a sharp breath at the sight, shifting on his feet, his own hand twitching like he wants to reach for himself.

Beth turns back to Rick. He too has gotten closer; his hand stretched to reach over her head, cup her opposite cheek. His breath is warm in the sticky air, but it doesn't make her uncomfortable; it only makes her burn.

“Well,” she says, eyes drifting to his lips. “Ain't like I'm gonna get much sleep tonight anyway.”

She sees only his grin before he leans forward to kiss her.

It's been so long since she's been kissed— _lord_ , such a long time—that the moan bursts out of her, filling his mouth as he seals his lips over hers. His lips are lovely, plush and soft, a sharp contrast to the beard she feels scraping her skin as he turns her face towards him, palm resting warm and large on her cheek to hold her in place. It isn't a constricting hold, but it's a hold, and between the touch of his lips and the pressure of his hand she's well on the way to squirming.

It takes her several moments to fall fully into the kiss, and when she does, it's delicious. He tastes like the venison they had for dinner, like the way he smelled as they sat on the hill together, and she wants that in her body, all of it; reaches out with her tongue to part his lips as she tangles her hand in his thick salt-and-pepper hair, groaning softly as he tilts his head, deepens the kiss, drops his own muffled moans into her open mouth.

Her body's just beginning to twist and head beginning to swim when his hand moves from her stomach and without preamble slips beneath the band of her sleep shorts.

Beth gasps, the action drawing Rick's lip into her mouth so when he moves away he does so with a _pop_. His hand halted its advance when she made her noise, but it hasn't stopped moving; strokes tenderly along the edge of her pubic hair, tickling the pores and making her whole body tingle.

“Ok?” Rick whispers. Beth opens her eyes and sees him so close she nearly closes them again, simply from the overabundance of sensation. She's aware of Daryl hovering even closer now, but she can't look away from Rick, can barely think beyond the hand edging its way towards her core. “You ok with this, Beth? You still want it?”

“What about Daryl?” she asks, finally able to glance his way, nearly choking when she sees what she knows is his dick hard under his jeans. She flicks her eyes up and meets his gaze and it's so intense her pussy clenches. Rick's fingers press into her pubic bone in reply, so she knows he felt it. He felt the motions of her pussy, the movements of her body, and he wants to feel more. Cause more.

She doesn’t know how she got this lucky.

“You're so considerate, baby,” Rick says, leaning in to kiss her again briefly on the lips. He pulls away, but not far; leaves his forehead pressed to hers as his fingers spread, cupping the top of her mound. “But I wouldn't worry. Plenty of you to go around, huh?” He kisses her again, slowly now, taking his time. “Especially after all this time,” he whispers against her mouth, hand slipping a centimeter lower. He's an inch into her bush now and Beth can feel herself leaking. “How long since you've come, sweetheart? How long's it been?”

“Long time,” she whispers. “Before I met you.”

“I'm sorry we didn't help you sooner.”

“At the farm?”

“Mmhm.”

“I was sixteen.”

Rick kisses her, slow, dirty, fingers digging into her mound.

“Did you ever want us to?” he asks against her lips.

“To touch me?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes,” Beth whispers. She looks at Daryl and he's leaning against the top bunk now, one hand on the rail and the other clenched at his side. “Both of you, when you walked through the house—I'd never seen anything like you. Hard and dangerous–“

“Dirty girl,” Rick growls.

“And caring,” Beth says through her shiver.

That gives Rick pause, and he pulls back a little to look at her. Her eyes have adjusted to the gloom, and she can see him almost as clearly as if it were day.

“Caring?”

“The way you looked for Sophia,” she says, looking at Daryl, “And Rick, how you protected us—you didn't know us from Adam but you protected us. Protected me.” She's so tired and overwhelmed that tears prick her eyes, and she feels Daryl's hand soft on her ankle. “You take care of me.”

“Gonna take care of you,” Rick whispers, sliding his hand the rest of the way down.

His palm settles over her pussy and Beth _arches_ , a silent gasp gulped in through gapped lips as he grinds gently, slides his fingers between her lips and explores.

“Anyone touched you here before?” Rick asks, his cheek practically blasting heat as he rubs it against hers.

“I was with Jimmy a few times,” Beth says, struggling to control her stream of thought. “He touched me and we, we did it.”

“He fucked you?”

“Yeah,” Beth whispers.

“You want one of us to fuck you?” Rick asks, working the rim of her entrance with his middle finger until she whimpers. “Want us to come inside you?”

Daryl makes a noise at that, and they both look at him. When he lands beneath their gazes he cringes back, blushing fiercely, and suddenly Rick's hand is gone from her cunt, shooting out to close around Daryl's wrist. Daryl freezes, staring wide-eyed at where he and Rick are connected.

 _He can feel how wet I am,_ Beth thinks, the thought drawing another gasp, _Rick's got me all over him, and now Daryl does, oh god–_

“You want to touch her?” Rick asks. He looks down at Beth. “You want that, Beth?”

“Yes,” she answers immediately, squirming without shame as she searches for something to grind against. “Please, Daryl, I want, I just want...”

“C'mon,” Rick says. “Watch me.” And he releases Daryl and plunges his hand between Beth's legs again.

His hand returns to its previous position but it doesn't stop—this time when it reaches her entrance it goes and goes and before she knows it his middle finger is knuckle-deep inside of her, thick and hot and moving.

“Jesus _christ_ –“

“Language, Beth,” Rick murmurs, but he doesn't sound as controlled as he did before; some of the coolness in his tone is slipping as he feels around her insides, tests her elasticity as he crooks and arches his finger, searching for something on her walls–

He grins when he finds it, grins in Beth's face as her mouth falls open at the static electricity she feels at the brush of his finger. Feels it fuzz through her body, a comfortable hum of arousal as he strokes softly, gently, building the pressure inside of her–

He swallows her shout as he presses down, pressing her like you'd press a button and making her arch off the bed, hands scrambling for purchase, legs jerking—

And one of her legs is arrested in mid-air, pushed to the bed. Beth's eyes fly open and there is Daryl, hand firm and implacable on her tibia as he stares at Rick's hand working beneath her panties. Rick's abandoned that spot inside her, playing instead with her clit, rubbing the tip of his soaking middle finger against it in small circles. Daryl doesn't relax his hold—pulls her leg farther out, even, distractedly, as if he isn't aware what he's doing, eyes dark and intense on the the play of Rick's knuckles through the fabric. Beth whimpers softly, pushing her other knee farther out until she's stretched nearly flat across the mattress, arching her hips into Rick's hand and Daryl's hold, eyes caught on Daryl's face as he stares at her like nothing else exists on this Earth.

“That's it, Beth,” Rick murmurs, still making those circles, too slow to get her anywhere beyond a burn. Beth looks at him just in time to see his eyes before he lands a scorching kiss on her mouth, sliding his hand down again to thrust his finger back inside her. “Tell me what you're feeling.”

“Hot,” she says, gripping the sheets in her fists until her knuckles ache, moving her leg just to feel Daryl press it down again. “Like–, fuck, like I can make it–“

“You almost there?”

“Yes–, god, just a little bit–“

And his fingers are gone.

Beth barely has a chance to protest before Rick's pinching her jaw and shoving his fingers in her mouth.

Daryl makes a noise louder than Beth does, but it's still Beth that Rick shushes. She gazes up at him, wide-eyed, unblinking as he rests his first two fingers on her tongue, applies enough pressure that her jaw drops, muscles relaxing, and she's lying in her bed with her mouth hanging open, tasting her own juices.

Rick's hand on her jaw turns into a caress, stroking down her neck and across her collarbone as he pulls her farther open, tilting her chin down towards her chest. She's dimly aware of Daryl's heavy breathing in the background, but she couldn't look away from Rick if she tried.

He looks so calm. So unaffected. Like he's left his everyday life, his emotions, his worries, behind; exists only as a pair of fingers in her mouth.

He pulls out until only his fingertips linger, two firm points on her tongue as she struggles to drag air in through her open throat. Her tongue is extended as far as it will go, stretched, bared to him, and he tilts his head like he's viewing something intriguing–

–and with his own indrawn breath slips his fingers fully into her mouth.

He follows her tongue like a waterslide, dipping in, pulling out; shallowly at first, and then deeper, pressing down harder, scissoring his fingers against her cheeks once or twice. She doesn't know what he wants her to do so she lies still, trembling, cognizant only of Rick's fingers in her mouth and Daryl's bruising hold on her shin and the burn that pounds away in her core.

“You taste it, don't you,” Rick says, voice cool, conversational, like they're discussing some new flavor of ice cream. “That's all you, honey. That's what we do to you.”

Beth whimpers, ducking her chin when he dips a little too far, brushing the sensitive skin at the back of her tongue. Instead of apologizing like she expects, he does it again; once more and she does gag, mouth coming shut to close around his fingers.

“No teeth,” he murmurs. She slowly relaxes her jaw again until only her lips are wrapped around him. His free hand comes down to trace the mound of her breast, spiraling up towards her jutting nipples. “Suck on me a little,” he says. “Suck it all off.”

Daryl's breathing sounds deafening in the quiet of the cell as Beth closes her eyes, breathing in deeply through her nose, trying to center herself before she flies apart. Her pussy feels desperately empty, screams at her to give it her hand, demand one of Daryl's, pull Rick's fingers from her mouth and lead them back where they had been making such magic–

But she hollows her cheeks around Rick's fingers. Sucks once, long, slow. Sucks again, then brings her tongue up, curling between his digits. She sucks in her cheeks, making the space as small as possible, hugging Rick inside of her, and the feeling is so erotic she feels ready to die of it.

She opens her eyes and she thinks he might be ready for that too.

“Beth,” he breathes.

She hums, giving him suction again, then pulling her chin up to drag off his fingers, linger her lips around the tips before plunging back down, small noises jumping from her throat.

“Christ,” Daryl croaks, and Rick finally seems to remember he's there; turns to him with an expression on its way to unhinged.

“Look at her,” he says. He turns back to Beth, now moving his hand to match the movements of her head, thrusting in to meet her as she gobbles him up. “You like me in your mouth?” he asks, gaze sharp and hot as steel, “Like me filling you up?”

All Beth can do is moan, moan and grab his wrist with one hand while the other relents and makes its fast way to her pussy.

She half expects to be stopped on her way.

She doesn't expect Daryl to be doing the stopping.

Rick follows her gaze at the sound of her indrawn breath; breathes out a little unsteadily himself as Daryl presses her wrist to the mattress—presses it _hard,_ hard until she feels the bones grind—then looks at Rick, a question in his eyes.

“Yes, Daryl?” he asks.

“I...” He swallows, looking at her body, her camisole riding above her belly button, her panties below her hips, the wet stain that must be visible even in the dark. He looks at her body and licks his lips and doesn't take his eyes from her when he says, “Lemme eat her out.”

Beth's teeth close on Rick's fingers. He doesn't even pretend to chasten her.

“Do it,” Rick breathes, turning back to Beth and drawing his fingers from her mouth before reaching for the hem of her camisole, pulling it off as Daryl tugs at her panties and suddenly she's naked between them, chest heaving in the steaming heat, beads of sweat trickling down her breasts and out of her hair.

“Christ,” Daryl says, eyes everywhere at once as Rick hums in agreement, not bothering with a preamble before resting a hot hand on her breast. He gives it a squeeze and Beth arches, her hand flying up to rest over his, terrified he'll let her go.

She nearly forgets the weight of Rick's palm when Daryl's hands suddenly leave her, and she's about to speak up in protest when his hands close around her ankles and yank her down the bed.

She goes with a yelp, Rick's hand raising in time so he doesn't knock her in the chin. She clutches at the sheets, trying to reorient herself, and before the world has stopped its spinning Daryl is pushing her thighs apart and licking into her.

She's never had this done to her before, and it feels _strange_ —all that wiggly wet in her private parts, the odd bump of teeth, the scratch of his scruff on her thighs. She doesn't know where Rick went and she wants to know, wants his hands back and grounding her, but the onslaught of stimulation makes it too hard to make anything out in the shadows of the cell. She struggles to her elbows, breasts jiggling, fighting to regain some kind of control, and gets her first real look at Daryl between her legs.

She nearly falls right back down.

Even in the dark, she can tell he's _filthy—_ absolutely shimmering with sweat and spit and _her_ , that's _her_ spread across his cheeks and dripping down his chin as he raises his head to look at her, absent-mindedly licking his lips as he does.

Beth knows why he looked at her like he did when she drank from his bottle—like she had picked him up and slurped him in along with the liquid, plunged him down her gullet into her simmering heat. She knows because she feels the same, like the whole world's been turned on its head.

He's _eating_ her.

And the heat that blasts into her is so sudden and so sharp that she doesn't even bother to ask—just slides her hands into Daryl's hair and drags him back down.

She watches this time. And she learns.

Learns what her pussy lips look like spread around someone's mouth. Learns how lean her legs seem next to Daryl's shaggy hair, how the muscle of her thigh jumps under his unyielding hands.

Learns how soft his tongue can be as it laps at her, little kitten licks alternating with long, broad strokes that make her hair stand on end. Learns the lines of his forehead as he furrows it in concentration, the way his nostrils narrow and flare as he drags in air so his mouth doesn't have to leave her for a moment. Learns how his eyes flick up to hers every time she twitches, as if checking for her response, before darting away like he's ashamed for her to see him.

She can't have that.

He freezes when her hand goes into his hair again, back muscles tensing as if he expects her to push him away. But she doesn't push at him—brushes his forehead with a trembling hand instead, clears the hair from his face so she sees nothing but him, nothing but his burning eyes.

“You're so good, Daryl,” she whispers, arching a little when he begins moving his tongue again. He looks at her when she speaks, and like her hand in his hair, this time it holds. “You're so–, oh my god, I've never felt this, I never–“

Daryl's eyes flutter shut. His tongue stutters until he's kneeling there, open lips pressed to her cunt, breathing, just breathing, his entire body moving with it.

“Beth,” he mumbles against her, and the vibrations zing through her body like a dream.

“C'mon,” she urges, “Drink up.”

Daryl groans and _bites_ her.

It's on her lip and not her clit but it feels as if he pressed his teeth directly to her nub, the shout that forces its way through her throat and rings through the cell, echoes down the hallway. Beth freezes in panic but Daryl doesn't even notice, burying his face in her pussy without finesse or reason, just an overpowering urge to devour her. He releases her thighs to pull them around his head and scoop his hands under her butt, using his body weight crush her into them.

“Holy–“

“Are you going to come, Beth?”

The whisper comes from across the room, and Beth wonders in the back of her mind why Rick's so far away—but to the rest of her, it hardly even registers; not with Daryl drinking her like a man in from the desert, his eyes filled with lust and heat and something she doesn't feel ready to name.

Something that makes a feeling greater than arousal spark in her stomach; something that makes her only want Rick more, to share it with.

She's about to reach out for him when Daryl brings a hand beneath his own chin to slide a finger inside of her.

Beth's head falls back in a voiceless cry, crumpling at last from her elbows to lie flat on her back, back arched and hips jumping as Daryl begins to pump his finger into her, adding another before she's even had time to adjust, groaning into her cunt as he scissors his fingers inside of her.

“Daryl, oh god, _fuck–_

Beth doesn't notice the sounds pouring from her mouth until she feels a pressure on her cheek, a thumb clicking her jaw shut.

She opens her eyes and Rick has his hand on his cock.

One hand on her cheek, yes. Turning her head, turning her cheek to the mattress, turning so that hand and that bulge fill her vision—outlined by the denim as if by contour crayons, long and curved against his leg. Daryl is still working messily between her legs but Beth feels far away, apart from her body as Rick squeezes himself, runs his thumb over the tip.

“You have to be quiet, hon,” he says, stroking her cheek as if his raging hard on isn't staring her in the face. “You don't want anyone to hear.”

“I can't,” Beth whispers. “Daryl, he, _oh–“_

“I think you can,” Rick says, pressing her lower lip with his thumb, sinking into her willing heat. There is no hesitation like there was last time—this time, Beth takes his thumb in her mouth and _sucks_ , letting it fill her, letting it ground her as the pressure builds and builds in her pelvis, hips jumping and writhing and she's so close–

“Stop, Daryl.”

And he's gone.

Not far—she still has her thighs locked around his head, he's still breathing on her in great labored pants—but his tongue is gone, his fingers are gone, his teeth and his lips and she was so _close–_

“Shh, honey, calm down,” Rick says, thrusting his thumb in and out of her mouth a few times, watching with something indescribable in his eyes as her own fill with frustrated tears. “You're gonna be ok. We're taking care of you, remember?”

Beth's legs fall limp, dropping so her feet dangle several inches off the floor. She's aware of Daryl moving around at the foot of the bed, making rustling noises, but she's too angry at him for obeying Rick to even look at him; she glares at Rick instead, wishing he'd get his damn finger out of her mouth so she can tell him what kind of job she thinks he's doing.

She has her hands free. She could push him away. Could sit up and put on her clothes and chase them away with her stance and an angry look.

She isn't going to do that. Rick knows she isn't going to do that.

“Said you wanted someone to fuck you, huh?” he murmurs, tracing the arc of her molars. “Still want that?”

Beth wants to say no, just out of spite. But part of her is terrified he'd listen.

She nods, nods desperately, nods until his thumb slips from her mouth and he takes hold of her upper arm, tugging a little.

“Slide up the bed, ok?”

She goes without protest, inching back on shaky limbs until her head's on the pillow again. Her eyes are still locked with Rick's, hypnotized by how dark they are, darker even than the shadows around them, darker than the walls and his hair and his jeans as his hands go to his belt.

“Look at Daryl, Beth.”

She doesn't know how, but she looks.

Her jaw drops open. A whimper rolls from her throat. She feels dizzy.

He's naked. Standing at the foot of her bed, shoulders thrown back, thighs strong, erection bobbing thick and proud in front of him, shining with rubber.

 _Someone's filming me. They have to be filming me, this can't be real_ , she thinks, eyes flicking from his dick to his face, to his tucked chin, down-cast eyes. Waiting for instruction. Waiting for her.

“Daryl,” she says.

He looks at her through the fringe of his hair. She tingles from scalp to toes.

She opens her legs. They're loose and limber from being spread before, and it's easy to let her bent knees drop to the bed, exposing her pussy to the dripping air, to him, to the dick that jumps when he looks at her. Beth's breathing is labored again and it only gets heavier when Rick reaches out to take her grasping hand.

He holds her as Daryl climbs on top of her, hovering carefully so no part of his body touches hers. He's trembling very faintly as he looks down at her, eyes sweeping her body with a cautious greed.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers.

“Please fuck me.”

Daryl looks at her, eyes nearly as dark as Rick's. He takes hold of her other hand, twines their fingers, presses it to the bed. He looks hulking over her, made even more monstrous by the constrained space, the upper bunk so close above him as he arches his back, clearing the view to where he fingers her for a moment, then two, then takes hold of his dick and practically falls inside.

She can tell he meant to go slowly, but he misjudged the wet cling of her, the force stronger than gravity pulling their pelvises together as he bottoms out in one long thrust. Beth throws her head back and keens as quietly as she can, clutching their hands until the bones grind, looking to Rick in desperation, for someone to share this with–

And he's got his cock out.

In his hand, in his fist, stroking it in short sharp tugs as he watches the couple before him try to hold themselves together.

“Rick,” Beth gasps, drawing his hand in to rub mindlessly against her cheek as Daryl shifts his position, re-situating his knees and making his cock rub maddeningly inside of her. “Rick, I need...”

“What do you need, baby?”

“You–, both of you, please–“

Rick's hand pauses on his dick, and he exchanges a look with Daryl. Daryl looks _tortured_ —forehead dripping with sweat as he waits for his body to relax, for Rick to give his instruction, for the three of them to spontaneously combust and blast into the sky.

“Think I should give it to her?” Rick asks.

Beth can't help it—she's too far gone—she snorts, drawing both their eyes. “You ain't a Christmas present,” she says, bringing her legs up to press against Daryl's hips, rocking her hips up experimentally. Daryl gives his own snort of laughter even as he groans, pelvis jerking.

Beth grins up at him, titillated, delighted; turns her head slowly when Rick presses at her cheek.

He isn't looking at her like he's been looking at her, though, with a mixture of amusement and lust. He's looking at her like he used to look at Lori sometimes, at the beginning, on the farm. Serious, with utter focus. Something equalizing and quailing and demanding all at once.

He presses at her jaw. She doesn't know much, but she knows enough to open it.

“It _is_ all for you,” he says. He steps closer till he's just brushing her mouth; a drop of pre-cum wells up and drips onto her tongue, tangy and sharp. He fists the base, pressing himself forward. Looks her right in the eyes as he does. “C'mere and take it, sweetheart.”

Daryl jerks inside her when Rick's dick slips past her lips; a breathless gasp bursts from Daryl's chest like he'd been punched.

And Beth lies there, mouth open, hands held, pussy spread, and she _takes_ it.

“Christ, that's good,” Rick hisses, letting go of his dick to grip the top bunk, rest his weight against it. “Oh honey, that's so good. Daryl, c'mon, make her feel it, c'mon–“

Daryl'd been practically still inside her this whole time, watching trembling and with wide eyes as Rick's cock spreads her lips, disappears into the cavern of her mouth. He's long, slim and beautiful and she wants to bring up a hand to touch everything she can't reach with her mouth but he doesn't release her; squeezes her hand instead, squeezes again when she pulses her lips around him. Beth closes her eyes and lets loose a muffled moan and Daryl begins to move.

If she didn't have Rick half-blocking her airway, Beth would have woken the whole cell block at this point—she's sliding towards the edge much faster than before, dizzy with it, delirious, unaware of the drool dripping down her face or the pain in her back from the mattress's crappy support—all she knows is the slip slide of the two of them, filling her up, taking care.

Daryl leans down across her, kissing her jaw, the curve of her neck, panting into her ear as his thrusts gain strength and confidence.

“Fuck, Beth,” he whispers, gasping as one push makes a loud squelching sound inside of her, “Fuck, look at you, _look at you_ –“

“Wish we had a mirror,” Rick says, sliding a little further forward until she's on the edge of choking. “You're so pretty, so fucking pretty like this–“

Beth moans around his dick, sucking it strongly and feeling a burst of pride as it shuts Rick up; makes him hunch against the bunk and jerk his hips sharply, hitting the back of her throat and making her gag.

And he doesn't care. He looks at her, studies her face, and does it again.

She whines, squeezing her pussy around Daryl until he groans, looking at Rick with begging eyes.

_Give it to me. Give me it, give me your come, make me come, god almighty please make me come–_

“Kiss her, Daryl.”

Daryl doesn't hesitate, doesn't pause his rhythm; just leans forward, hand braced on her palm, and presses a kiss to her cheek, the corner of her mouth, opens his lips and laves his tongue across Rick's moving dick.

And she explodes.

It roars in like a lion, unexpected and uncontainable as she screams around Rick's cock, so loudly that Daryl has to slap a hand down against her cheek, pressing her to the bed and constricting Rick's dick in her mouth too until his groans echo hers, until he's pistoning into her still crying mouth as she writhes, jumps and shoves at Daryl's body to let her go, draw her closer, take hold of her and launch her into the sky as she floods the bed with a year's worth of sorrow and cum.

Rick comes in the middle of it, holding her head firm as he empties into her throat, making her gargle and fight for air and come even harder, fingernails clawing at Daryl's knuckles as he buries his face in her shoulder, fucks her through it, fucks and fucks until he's finishing too, grinding his soaked pubic hair against the damp mat of hers.

Beth's barely aware of Rick's softening dick sliding from her mouth; barely aware of Daryl pulling away, except for the air it sends across her dripping body. She shivers violently, from the breeze and from the aftershocks, lying splayed across the bed in a puddle of sweat and cum.

She feels hands moving her, then; reaching under her body to tuck a towel between her back and the soaked bed, pulling up the sheet to contain her shivers, stroking her face and her chest and between her legs, wiping the moisture away.

“You ok?” Daryl rumbles.

She opens her eyes and they're still undressed, looking just as fucked as she knows she must, hovering over her with concern in their eyes. She can only hold her lids up for several moments; but the little that she sees makes her smile.

“So ok,” she mumbles, reaching out to take whatever hand she meets first, pulling it to rest against her cheek. “Sleepy.”

They chuckle, another set of knuckles drifting across her ear. “We'll let you get some sleep, then,” Rick says.

“No,” Beth whispers. “No. Stay.”

She doesn't have to see to know what happens now. They look at her. They look at each other. They smile.

The hands leave her face, and moments later a warm body is crawling in behind her, another settling on the floor by her head, hand coming to rest once more on her cheek. She knows that as soon as her sweat evaporates, she's going to be sweltering. She knows as soon as dawn comes, they'll need to leave. She knows they might never speak of this again.

But that's ok, Beth thinks as she snuggles into the man behind her, hugs the arm of the one in front. Because for a few minutes, they were here with her. The two of them, they took her away.

It's ok. She can rest now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to review :)


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